


Do My Furs Make You Drowsy?

by BuddyTheMeanPeacock



Series: Drabbles and Oneshots (DimiClaude) [19]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), more alternative POV lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25483669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyTheMeanPeacock/pseuds/BuddyTheMeanPeacock
Summary: Dimitri came for their meeting over tea, a relief from the days as they were. His usual attire, among other things, makes that impossible.Alternative POV to the story Fur
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: Drabbles and Oneshots (DimiClaude) [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561504
Comments: 14
Kudos: 74





	Do My Furs Make You Drowsy?

An empty corridor. Such was the second floor dormitories on the day free of duties, the war doing nothing to deter the army from seeking its solace in the last day of the week. Few were present in these halls, preferring to spend their time elsewhere. 

Dimitri walks down the hall with a budding familiarity. It has been some weeks since Claude has suggested they meet for some time during the free day. Nothing drastic; it was simply to give both of them time to “wind down," Claude says.

A laughable idea - that was his first impression. But he finds having tea with Claude to be… a break. The voices, both from the dead and the living, grow exhausting on his mind and body; with Claude it was… quieter. Time did not seem to settle in his bones when the leader speaks of that which has caught his interest. He has even… looked forward to it, now. He made sure to keep track of the days so that he may never miss a meeting.

Eventually he makes it to Claude’s door. He knocks; no answer. Once more, harsher though careful not to splinter the wood; still nothing.

That was strange. In all the time he has known Claude Dimitri has never known the man able to ignore signs of company. He opens to the door.

In the room sits Claude, head in his bare hands, leaning into his desk, as he rubs his fingers into his temple in what seemed to be a useless attempt to alleviate a headache - a predicament Dimitri knows too well. That Claude has yet to notice his presence, his near paranoid levels of awareness failing him, spoke of the state of the man.

Dimitri did not like it. 

“Claude,” he calls out.

The leader jumped at his name being called, revealing the truth of his fatigue under his charming smile and straightened posture. “Dimitri? Pretty rude of you to just walk in without knocking, don’t ya think?”

 _That_ causes Dimitri to worry. He studied the man in front of him - the faint shadows under his eyes, a tenseness in his body that is subtle but there in the slight tightness in his smile.

But his following words confirm what he already knew to be true.

“Oh! It’s tea time, isn’t it?” He rose from his chair, stretching his arms and legs, a multitude of cracks following the movements. “Sorry, slipped my mind what day it was today. Sit tight, I’ll go brew some-”

Unacceptable.

“Claude,” he interrupts, startling him. He entered the room proper, coming closer to Claude until he was in front of him. “When have you last slept?”

He asks the question, though he knew he would get no straight answer. Such a thing was unnecessary, as he knew it was something he would hardly be able to believe if it weren’t for the dulled mind that came from it. Claude was human as anyone else; things were sure to slip past his notice, rare as it was to happen. But not the days - _never_ the days, when each one spelled out the potential of another fight, another injury, another death. Claude, loathe as he was to admit it outright, cared far too greatly for the lives of those under his gaze as to let such a thing simply evade him.

“Ahh you know how it is. Pull an all-nighter here and there,” Claude answers, dodging the question as Dimitri knew he would. “Chamomile can do me good right now. Let me go and make it-”

_No._

Dimitri grabbed hold of Claude’s arm to stop him. He dared not put any strength to his hold, lest he risk hurting him, the mere thought of doing such even by accident chilling his skin. He would never do this, offend those who he is talking to by griming them with his touch, least of all Claude. 

But he knew that Claude would not stop. He would keep pushing, not allowing help for even the most trivial of tasks, too independent and stubborn to admit to weariness. 

“Rest. Now.”

Claude needed to. Dimitri will assure that he does.

The leader looked behind him before looking at Dimitri and chuckling. “It’s still the middle of the day Your Princeliness! Certainly not the appropriate time for a nap,” he says to him, with a wink to follow it. Whatever effect Claude hoped to have with it was ruined by the bags dragging it down.

Dimitri stole a glance to Claude’s bed, taking in the bed with its near pristine condition. It has not been used in some time. “Tell me, is the night the most opportune time in which to strategize?” he rebukes.

Claude flinched at the evidence being pointed to him so clearly. “You caught me,” he admits, patting a bare hand to Dimitri’s shoulder. 

Such an action would have caused him to recoil in the past, he knew; with others touch was still something to avoid, its presence prickling his skin as a roach’s gait would. Claude, however… it was different. He could not explain it; such was not always the case once they had reunited in the war, he knew. But it was the case now. He found he usually did not mind.

Presently, something was different. It seemed as though, for just a moment, Claude… drifted, in his focus. But he shook his head, and appeared to regain his thoughts. “But sorry to inform you,” he continued, as though nothing happened, “I’m not one for lectures thrown at me, and if Ingrid or Lorenz catch me sleeping they’ll throw a fit…”

And then it happened again, more blatant, the drifting of Claude’s mind as his gaze stayed on the furs on Dimitri’s shoulder, his hand running seemingly absentmindedly through the black and white coat.

“Did you wash this recently?” Claude asks suddenly.

The question throws Dimitri off guard, the sharp turn in subject being something unprepared for. “...I believe the professor has,” he answers slowly, gathering his thoughts, “while I was asleep.”

Claude kept his lazy petting of Dimitri’s coat, his fatigue far more potent with the half-lidded eyes shaded and unfocused. It was a wonder that he was still standing, so tired he clearly was.

“I can feel the back?”

Now _that_ surprised Dimitri. The idea of exposing his back to anyone so close was one he has learned to be wary of whenever proposed, years on the run with a bounty on his head teaching him the glory of mistrust. Anyone, whoever they are, poses a danger to one who can’t see them.

_But… not Claude._

...Yes. Not Claude. He… would not risk him failing to down Dimitri. Would not wish to face the ruining ramifications that would befall him would he succeed. 

“...You may,” he allows, turning his back to Claude.

He could not help the tension in his body as he faced the door, allowing Claude access to Dimitri in such a vulnerable way. He could very faintly feel Claude’s waving motions as he ran his hands through the entirety of Dimitri’s coat-

And then _very much_ felt the sudden change in pressure, the shock of it rocking Dimitri ever so forward before he found his footing. He could feel all of Claude’s weight now pushing into him, but before panic could worm its way into him he heard the low, satisfied hum of a man who has found true comfort. The sound nearly startled Dimitri enough for him to not notice the pressure slipping, lower and lower, falling to the ground-

He turned sharply.

“Claude!”

He caught him before he fell to the floor, verdant eyes now wide with shock. Dimitri kept his hold on Claude, the leader unable to keep to his feet.

“Phew, sorry about that!” Claude smiled, sheepish and genuine, and it… looked nice. “Your coat’s like a pillow now.”

“...Hmph,” was all he responded with, trying to block out the small dimples on Claude’s face from his mind’s eye, to blot out how well true bashfulness fit Claude's features far better than forced carelessness. He held Claude close to him, keeping his balance steady as they headed for the bed that so dearly needed use. Upon reaching it Claude went to move an open book out of the way - and his mind was snared within the pages almost immediately, his eyes flickering across the pages, and he saw the clever mind try to reawaken and continue running, running, _running-_

Dimitri reached and closed the book, shoving it off of the mattress and onto the floor with the myriad of other tomes and papers already scattered about. He heard Claude sigh, the sound nearly screaming _oh well_. He adjusted himself onto the bed with Claude so that Claude may continue to-

A huff. “Gonna take a nap with me? How bold~”

Dimitri snapped his head away from Claude’s smirking face, a strange heat overcoming his own. “Don’t be foolish,” he answers immediately. “If I were to leave, you would return to your books in an instant.”

And that was true. He knew it to be true, he had just seen it nearly happen, he didn’t- to think he could bed with someone so- no, no, he hadn’t meant-

The troublesome thoughts - useless, trivial, insignificant - halted their race around Dimitri’s mind as Claude moved to more comfortably settle on Dimitri’s shou- on Dimitri’s furs. Soon a familiar weight rested itself against Dimitri once more, Claude sound asleep in mere seconds.

Another testament to his exhaustion.

Staying still in one place for extended periods of time - not only was such a thing of no consequence to Dimitri it was in fact something he partook in nearly every day, keeping to one place to better focus on those whose attention demanded his own. But this, _oh_ , this was different. He felt… twitchy, almost. A spark in his chest that ordered him to move from the bed - which itself fought with the strange, foreign, irresistible need to _not waken Claude_ , to stay still lest verdant eyes open from the world of sleep they have seen so little of in recent days.

So he came to a compromise; he slowly, carefully, unfastened his coat from his armor, moving with a grace thought long gone in the throes of rage and madness as he carefully… carefully… turned Claude so that he lay on Dimitri’s furs entirely, before Dimitri backed away from the bed.

He watched as Claude slept on his cloak, the length of it nearly as long as the man was tall and plenty wide enough to hold him, the furs so thick as to have the man sink in them. Claude was… relaxed. He looked quite comfortable laying there, curled around himself as though to be further engulfed in the furs surrounding him. Gazing upon him gave no impression of a charismatic leader of a struggling war faction, but of a man… safe. Far and away from the world’s ills and cruelties, a face free of beguiling smiles and careful nonchalance. 

He looked… peaceful.

Dimitri wasn’t sure how to describe what and how the sight made him feel. It froze him in place, stealing his breath and robbing him of his ability to look away, and… there was something else. A tight electricity squeezing his chest that spread throughout his being. It was… _his_ cloak, that revealed this softer side of Claude. _His_ cloak, that gave him such calm. And Dimitri… liked it. Something of his bringing any sort of good to another - to Claude, who has been by his side whenever possible, both in the past and even now, beast that Dimitri was. 

It felt wrong to move. He hears them, whispered doubts long since familiar, hears them tell him that this isn’t real, merely a blue moon’s sweet dream. Moving would break the illusion that one such as he could bring anyone comfort.

But he found he didn’t care. Let this be nothing but fantasy. Let this be the imaginings of a mind so loosely held together as to fail to tell fiction from reality anymore. For this, this sight, seeing Claude so trusting of him, at ease and comfortable and _at peace_ in Dimitri’s presence, the mere thought of such a thing being true…

He smiled, true and aching and to no one. 

He will cherish it.

**Author's Note:**

> A request for a pal of mine @inujuju ! I was sitting on it for a bit trying to get to it, but then Claude's birthday came around so I was like hey!! I suck at writing birthday specific fics anyway so this'll do alright lmaooo
> 
> Happy birthday Claude!!! <3 <3


End file.
